Cornstarch MerryGoRound
by Perminator
Summary: What happens when A + B = C?


Just so you know: I, like every other author, am confessing that I am stealing the names of characters. It's a   
  
bit like pirating mp3s, but not so space stealing. I hope you enjoy my tale of hippy hoppy yo yo. If I were   
  
German, I would say "Ich liebe dich! Du hast eine schön Halskette. Ich möchte deine Halskette." Alas, I am   
  
not, so I will stick with English equivalents.  
  
Now for the tale entitled:  
  
CORNSTARCH MERRY GO ROUND  
  
Once upon a time, there lived a horny little boy named Harry Potter. Harry Potter was unlike your average   
  
boy. He was not an average boy, because he was 35 years old.  
  
Once, many orbits ago, Harry Potter, your not-so-average boy, was involved in a brutal fight to the death.   
  
There was a punch punch here, a kick kick there, here a punch, there a kick, everywhere punch, kick. Harry   
  
Potter, your not-so-average boy, had a fight, e-i-e-i-o.  
  
Unfortunately, Harry Potter, your not-so-average boy, took the term 'punch your balls off!' a bit too   
  
seriously. He had to have an emergency testicle removal to save his life. In place of where our hero's   
  
testicles used to be, the pediatricians placed a microchip that simulated masculinity.  
  
When he felt the need to wank off at a Disney movie, he could not, but it sure felt real!  
  
Here is where we cut into now, our 35 year old hero with his microchip testicles. Harry, our not-so-average   
  
boy was feeling quite depressed. All his old friends from school had run off and given meaning to their life.   
  
Harry just sat around playing darts, and getting into fights to help his self-esteem.  
  
He felt the sense of being disposed. He had spent so much time forming his life as a child, and now he   
  
needed to spend so much time reforming his life as a child.  
  
He could not think of a way, so he gave up the next day and went to have a knock-off Irish beer at the local   
  
tittie bar. There he saw a vaguely familiar face of a girl, who was most likely not-so-average, who was   
  
shaking her bon-bon for crack cocaine.  
  
A simple thought popped into our not-so-average boy's simple mind. He thought, "O what a simple job!"   
  
He pulled a simple pattern out of his simple knapsack and began sewing a simple shirt.  
  
"Cat got your tongue, eh? Want to trade knickers? Who is your favorite basketball player?" The vaguely   
  
familiar face spit specks of food onto his simple shirt while asking his simple questions.  
  
"No, ma'am. Do not touch me." Harry stated in a monotonous voice that could on be heard by this vaguely   
  
familiar girl and the bartender across the room. He had exquisite hearing.  
  
"My name's Hermione, but you can call me Sweet Potato." Hermione said in a toothless grin.  
  
Harry thought long and not hard. He knew that name, for it was such a stupid name. Only one could call it their   
  
own. That person would be Hermione. "Hermione!" Harry yelled in a warm voice. "It is good to see you,   
  
no? Would you like a cup of tea? Please come back to my place."  
  
"Who are you?" Hermione wailed.  
  
"I am Harry!"  
  
"Oh yes! I remember! I thought you had died. I thought your skull had been brutally crushed. I thought   
  
your soul had been stomped out. I thought your corneas had been scratched up. Yes, I could go for some   
  
tea at this moment."  
  
They took a public transportation bus to Harry's shack in the middle of the English Channel. Harry had   
  
mentioned that it was the cheapest land he could find since there was technically no land.  
  
"O what a lovely home you are housing!" Hermione squealed with delight.  
  
"You do not have to fuck with me," Harry said with a tone of disappointment. "I live in a whale carcass."  
  
"I see, I see, but I enjoy what you have done with it." Hermione smiled. "Punch your balls off."  
  
When Hermione had said the dreaded phrase, Harry broke into a stage of leaking all over floor. Tears   
  
swelled up in his eyes and flowed down the river of his face. He made high noises that a girl would make   
  
after her dog coughed up its last breath of air.  
  
"You little sissy." Hermione snarled, "I just said 'punch your balls off'."  
  
Harry sniffled, "It's too late for that."  
  
Hermione expressed a look of confusion upon her tired face. She shot the needle full of heroine into her arm   
  
and asked, "What does that mean, good sir? Thou has invited me into the humble whale carcass that   
  
belongs to you. You tell me that it's too late to punch your balls off, whatever does this mean?"  
  
Harry mustered up the courage to tell his only true love the truth of the matter. "When I was a little boy,   
  
around the age of 34 or so, I punched my balls off." Harry dropped his drawers. "See!"  
  
"Make love to me!" Hermione yelled in ecstasy. So they did in a not so graphic way. Harry inserted tab A   
  
into tab B and did not create a miracle. After growing tiresome, Harry inserted tab A into tab C and then Tab   
  
A into tab A.  
  
After a back flip and a bear hug, Harry and Hermione were finished making whoopee. It was, of course, very non-  
  
graphic. There was no rubbing of nipples or touching of a throbbing cock. No, sir! None of that was involved.   
  
There was just non-graphic intimacy.  
  
"Will I ever see you again?" Hermione smiled gently. "I love you and your computerized testicles very   
  
much. For if they were real, we would need a contraceptive, but no, no, no, no, no, no, no contraceptive   
  
with you, my love."  
  
"Yes, Hermione." Harry said while putting on his apron. "I will see you whenever the sun rises in the far   
  
east. I will see you when the homeless men get beat upon. And I will especially see you tomorrow night at   
  
seven, if that is okay."  
  
"Yeah, that's good." Hermione said as she walked out the door. As she was leaving the whale carcass, she   
  
did not notice a very large flight of steps that led to the kayak. Hermione fell very harshly, screaming in   
  
tortured pain. She laid, writhed, upon the end of the stairs. She groaned in sheer pain while the last waking   
  
moments of her life passed before her eyes.  
  
Harry had heard the noise and the screaming and began to question himself to what was occurring. He   
  
walked towards the door and realized his favorite show "Hogwarts Girls Gone Wild" was on. He watched   
  
his glorious half hour and then remembered the noise he was supposed to investigate.  
  
He opened his front whale tooth to peek, to see if he could see anything without having to get his slippers.   
  
This was a negative, 10-4. As much as he did not want to, he had to go get his slippers.  
  
Once the slippers were upon his feet, he walked slowly to the kayak boarding station where he saw a   
  
wretched heap of googly-gaggle. "Who dare trespasses my kayak boarding station?" Harry said in a   
  
boastful voice.  
  
There was no answer to be heard.  
  
This made our hero suspicious. He walked ever so carefully to the wretched heap. That is when he noticed   
  
what, and who, it was.  
  
He sank to his knees in a violent fashion and cursed the Heavens with his callused hands. He cursed and   
  
spat and hoped that this was not true.   
  
Then a smile cracked on his face. He reached into the lifeless Hermione's pants. He pulled out her crack   
  
pipe and became the heartless bastard that he was.  
  
That concludes the story of the fabled Harry Potter with the microchip testicles. The nurse who had   
  
inserted the microchip into the barren spot where his testicles used to be never told him of the side affects.   
  
Other than acute horniness, there was a 5% chance of becoming a heartless bastard that rapes young women and   
  
beats homeless men. The government did not like a man like himself roaming around their tame wizard   
  
kingdom so they made him a secretary for an accountant.  
  
THE END.  
  
Amphetamines! HRRRR! GRR! 


End file.
